Of Principle & Action

[Vencu]

Corden couldn't stand idle, nor did pacing sate his desire to take action. He had been awake for nearly forty-eight standard hours, perhaps many more, but it was what had occured in the last twenty-four that remained at the forefront of his mind. There had been a sudden shift in strategy. A call from Mand'alor to abandon all they had worked for, their new home, and move elsewhere... to worlds that had no true worth save for how little of value they were to the Alliance, who seemed to hold sway over where the Mandalorians did and didn't settle. Mand'alor, it seemed, was just an Alliance puppet. Corden had fought long and hard and risked much to see a new Mand'alor rise to lead them into what he believed would be a new era. Now it seemed all was for nought. This new leader was inept as the last had been and Corden's dismay was evident in his posture, as was his anger.

It was because of his views that he had so often been at odds with other Mandalorians. His way had once been the standard, but times had obviously changed. He had thought to sway them, or at the very least serve as a guiding light, but some things were beyond saving. Many of his people had forgotten their roots and abandoned honor. They had lost their identity as a people, as a culture. Corden despised corruption and incompetence in any form. He despised weakness. Now, he was all the more aware of the cancer plaguing his people.

Indeed, many things had changed. Corden Vencu decided he would adapt and overcome in his own way. And it was at that moment that he felt a darker side awaken deep within him, one that had always been present, but carefully suppressed. It was time for action. It was time for a shift that would forever change the Mandalorian people. In the haze of emotion that coursed through him, Corden took hold of his hatred and embraced it fully. What reserve he had melted away and a thirst for blood, for vengeance, occupied his thoughts. He would do everything within his power to see that this cancer was cut out and destroyed, even if he had to gut those he had once considered vode one by one to remove it completely. They were the traitors. They were everything that he despised. Weak, inept, worthless; dar'manda. They weren't deserving of mercy or pity. Fanatic, that's what they would call him. No, that's what they would scream as he choked the very last breath of air from their lungs with his gauntleted hands. Their fates were sealed.

Corden continued to hammer the blade of precious ore he had worked to forge all through the night. As his thoughts grew darker, weighing more heavily on his mind, so too did his hammer weigh in on the blade. With a resounding crack, the delicate metal shattered in two and Corden immediatly let the tongs and hammer fall to the stone floor, disgusted. A loud thud marked the fall of the hammer, a metallic clatter the impact of the tongs. After a moment, he reached out to take one half of the broken weapon. Impurities in the ore had weakened the metal. Corden thought of the weak and inept warriors among the people he had once considered his own. It was the impurities that had caused such a fine instrument of death to weaken and shatter; it was the weak, the inept, and the corrupt that would lead the Mandalorians to do the same.

 

[Mars]

The Mandalore had made a fatal error.

In his new declaration, one Apollo had not even been briefed on, the Mandalore decided to act upon a treaty completed by the failure before him. The Galactic Alliance had been so kind as to allow the Mandalorians a new are of space they weren't using nor cared about. Quite frankly, only Jesus could hope to match the grace of those fantastic politicians on Coruscant. A large portion of those that had finally began to settle into their new homes on Roon were understandably upset with the proclamation. Some of the angered clans, such as Vencu, were more recently founded but a certain man named Corden had saw them become famous for their traditionalist nature and valor in combat. Older clans, such as the widely known Ordo, also were beginning to show signs of their discontent.

Today would lay the foundations for a movement that would change the galaxy and years of work would finally pay off.

Very few people truly know where the Ori'alor was during the time he spent outside of the Mandalorian military. He spent the first year working for the Empire as a mercenary, and the rest of them as an agent. They represented many things to the young Echani soldier. Power. Stability. In many ways, honesty. Where the Galactic Alliance ignored its corruption and tried to bury it, the Empire embraced the greed of some for the betterment of all. Not everyone has a fair chance at success, the Empire knows this and exploits it to the fullest. He had returned home with praise from his people, becoming a Commander before long and shortly after that ascending to Ori'alor. His charisma and silver tongue helped the infiltration greatly, his combat prowess was second only to a Force sensitive and that brought him great respect among his people.

Dressed in his full combat gear as usual, the pure beskar armor looking identical to his beskar-alloy set, he made his way to the man who made Clan Vencu famous. The meeting was to take place at the man's home on Roon. No doubt he too had heard of the declaration and was no less distraught than the head of Clan Ordo. Apollo's squad formed up behind him in two rows of eight, sixteen of the deadliest warriors of the Mandalorians, many of them had served together with him in the Empire, such as Cypher and Oliver, while others were recently informed of their leaders true background and stayed on board because of the immense respect they had for him. Before long, Apollo had left his squad at the base of a repulsorlift and ascended to the top floor of the building, where Corden gripped the railing of the balcony.

"Greetings my brother. I trust you've heard the news and that is why you've called me here. What is it you wanted to discuss, General?"

 

[Vencu]

Corden turned away from the balcony slowly, facing the inner workings of the forge that overlooked the scenic mountainscape beyond. Gripped firmly in his bare left hand was one fragment of the blade he had put so much time and sweat into forging. Blood ran down its length, dripping to the stone floor below. Corden seemed not to notice just how hard he held the delicate half-blade.

"My top lieutenant, Korva, tells me I've snapped. I feel a difference, too. And oddly enough, that doesn't worry me like it should. I feel as though my eyes have been opened for the first time... Everything is sharp in my mind, more focused; like a freshly honed blade." Corden paused a moment, finally noticing the warm blood trickling down his fingers and pooling at his armored boots. Taking a rag off a nearby work bench, he wrapped his hand with the cloth, then continued, "This move... I won't have anything to do with it. I've seen leaders rise and fall, but it isn't battle that's taking our leaders now. It's corruption. Incompetence. Weakness. Simply put, I've lost all faith in what our people have become. Something must be done... I asked you to come here because I'm at a turning point. My clan is with me. As are many of the warriors under my command. I need to know that there are others that believe we're losing our way... no, that we've already lost our way. I need to know I'm not the only one that sees this cancer that is plaguing... our people... I have trouble calling them my people, even. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth. So many are not even worthy to be called Mando'ad... to some, such talk would be considered a clear admission of treason. I'll leave that for you to decide, Ori'alor. But I assure you, I have no intention of recanting."

 

[Mars]

Apollo noticed the blood dripping off Corden's hand and dropping to the cold floor beneath him. It was odd to see the generally composed general so riled up. It was a different kind of anger though. Bottled and contained, yet still darker than the more blatant shows of rage and anger. When he spoke it only confirmed his aforementioned suspicions.


Corden had snapped, and it was time for action.

The Mandalorians had drifted from what it was there culture stood for. Corden hit the nail on it's head. They were innundated with people who sought only shiny ranks and gold stars and could care less about the things that made a Mandalorian, well, a Mandalorian. Honor. Brotherhood. To be the greatest and most feared warrior nation in the galaxy.

"I understand your anger, Corden, far better than many others. The cancer you speak of is rooted deeply in our people. This weakness must be removed. We have fallen far from what it means to be Mando'ad. You share my fire, my passion to see us dug out of this grave. Like a phoenix, we will be born again. Through fire, the Mandalorians will be purged."

The young war-veteran smiled beneath his helm.

"Mandokarla, Corden. I've done my research on you. Your valor is nearly as famous as your controversy. Supporters of the fool Dagger rallied against you for some time whilst I was away. Since my return they've begun to fade but you still have many enemies here. You have made friends with the Chiss, and I have many contacts in the Imperium."

Apollo removed his helmet and clipped it to his hip, letting his bright blue eyes meet Corden's.

"I propose we leave this....mockery of Mandalorian culture. Together we will forge our people into an honor-bound war machine of destruction. Devastating all before us with support of some of the galaxy's most powerful nations behind us. We will bring glory and honor to the clans. We will be brothers in arms. An unstoppable family of warriors. "

His ice-blue eyes seemed to glow with an internal fire and his words held the power of a demi-god. That was a cause Apollo could rally behind and would die to see completed. He extended his hand towards Corden, a shake would seal it.

"Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it."

Truth. Honor. Vision.

 

[Vencu]

"Bal'ban... Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it." Corden proferred his injured hand, pulling the now soiled rag away, "I seal this pact between us... solus gotal'u o'r tal, ner ori'vod." One made in blood, my brother.

Corden's pulse quickened. He felt the unbridled rage boiling beneath his skin, but also pride and kinship. Together, as the closest of vode, Aliit Ordo and Aliit Vencu would wage a fierce, merciless campaign against all that was wrong with the Mandalorians and reforge a new breed of warrior the likes of which the galaxy had never before seen. A schism had occured, a rift... the Second Mandalorian Civil War had begun.

(tal'onidir: to sweat blood, to *give blood* - idiom for going that extra mile or making an all-out effort)

 

[Mars]

"So long as I draw breath into my lungs, I will fight against this abomination and perversion of the Mando'ade."

Apollo's grin grew as the pact was sealed in blood between the two. Ordo and Vencu would be the prominent clans of the true Mandalorians, but countless others would come to their banner as they left Mandalorian space.

"Together we will prove mighty. Combined with the power of the Empire, we will be unstoppable. Can we expect safe passage through the Chiss territories until we reach the Imperium? I have strong connections there, ones that could secure us worlds to settle, that is our best choice."

The current Mandalore would know too late that the Ori'alor and the general had left space. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers would be gone, having rallied to the charismatic Apollo and the traditionalist Corden.

 

[Vencu]

"The Chiss Imperator and I have an understanding. I'm sure he would permit us passage, especially given this new development. I imagine he'll be somewhat puzzled at my sudden change of heart, but as long as we contact him before our arrival, I'm sure I can smooth things over. Arriving unexpectedly would not turn out well for either of us."

After a brief pause, Corden responded with a grin of his own, "I've already made preparations to leave... all of my top captains have been notified. They've sworn loyalty to Aliit Vencu, as have the members of their respective units and clans. I've had Coro Kevara prepare the various prototype vessels at his disposal for active service, along with those I retained from the evacuation of Manda'yaim. Those ships should be more than sufficient to transport both our clans and those loyal to our cause. As for the journey... you are welcome to join me aboard my flagship, the Mandokar."

 

[Mars]

"An understanding with the Chiss Imperator will be invaluable as we leave the traitors behind. We can be gone within the day if we make haste, my ships are mobilized and my forces ready, this has been planned for some time. So long as you clear the way for us we may leave whenever."

Apollo listened as Corden responded with a grin, a nice sight after how angry the man was moments prior.

"Ah, you're as prepared as I am. Coro is an incredibly talented man, I'm glad we can count on his support. As for joining you upon your flagship, I would be honored Corden, my top lieutenants can handle my own fleet. The Imperium will be most pleased when we arrive. It will not be long before we walk the ground of Manda'yaim my brother."

 

[Vencu]

"Other than grinding the skulls of these traitors into dust beneath our heals, it's returning to Manda'yaim that I most look forward to. In time, we will cease to be a splinter group and the population will recognize us as legitimate... reclaiming Manda'yaim will bring us ever closer to that eventuality."

Corden turned to face a small data terminal near the workbench, the fingers of his uninjured hand playing across the keypad.

"I'll inform Coro. He'll need to know that we're moving out sooner than expected. He's already wiped his research from the database. His prototypes will only be replicated with our say so... As you said, with haste, we can easily leave before day's end. I'll have Mandokar send escorts to secure our exit. We must move quickly."

 

[SoloWing]

It was at that point that Alya entered the conversation; any further delay on her part would prove to be a hindrance rather than a help. Her gaze turned over the three men present. All of them were about to become traitors in a few moments.

Recent events had made Alya very good at treason. Her path had led from the Sith, to the Mandalorians and now back to the Sith by proxy. It was so amusing that it bordered on irony.

"Fanaticism has destroyed Death Stars in the past. Should we have but a quarter of that success and we'll do well. My name is Alya Vin. I look forward to working with you all in this noble cause." Her gaze slid to Apollo. "A'lore. Glad to see you again."

 

[Lexian Praxeus]

Rao'az has been standing behind Alya. He had little to discuss in matters of politics or plans, he had until recently not known much of battle either. He had lived most of his life as a farmer and not been into battle. But the Mand'lor had requested Rao'az to join the A'lore and Alya where Rao'az experienced bloodlust. Now, he was ready for anything which the A'lore asked of him. He was a simple man, ideology and a belief system meant little to him and he could be easily manipulated. But he had fought alongside the A'lore and was prepared to follow him into this new stage of Mandalorian evolution.

He quietly stood behind Alya and only spoke to say,

"I'm ready to join as well." He did not speak eloquently, but rather spoke bluntly and frankly.

 

[Tunnel Rat]

Apollo's holocommunicator would buzz and then beep, repeating the process repeatedly until the call of answered. Once Apollo would pick his communicator up and activate it, a blue figure would appear upon the rounded surface. The features of the figure would be hard to make out aside from the Imperial Stormtrooper armor covering its body with a kama hanging down the backside of his legs. The helmet wasn't present on the figure's person however a ball cap worn backwards signified that the man the figure protrayed was no ordinary stormtrooper.

"Uh... This thing on? Oh, right." Steryle looked professional but always tried to keep everything on a chill level rather than being up tight about everything. Especially since he had just gotten back from the reconing of Hapes for the Empire's hopefully soon-to-come invasion. However, due to Imperial foreign customs and courtesies, he had to at least make it somewhat formal of a greeting to the Mandalorians. "I am the Imperial liason assigned to you at the moment. I'm calling to discuss the Empire's Foreign Advisor policy."

Steryle didn't want to lose the Mandalorians mentally, so he paused for a moment, letting it soak in. The only thing he'd heard about Mandalorians in his entire life was that they were dumb brutes that loved to slaughter entire star systems. It was why he was chosen to be a foreign advisor for them, because he knew nothing about them and was now tasked with being attached to them and learning their culture and tactics. Little did Steryle know that he was stepping into the middle of what would no doubt become a civil war. "Essentially, I'll be attached to you for an undisclosed period of time where I'll learn more about your culture and tactics, while doing everything you all do, while feeding reports back to the Empire." Was he actually going to follow the rules by the book? Hell no. "I'll be able to say more in a few days when I arrive." Reports and formalities? No way. Steryle was about to get some the Mando-way.

 

[Horizon]

Dropping from an overhang and onto the balcony with a thud, Saren finally made his presence known. Although, Apollo was already quite aware of his location and had been expecting him to join in on the conversation for some time. The sleek shine of his armor was quite noticeable thanks to the fires of Corden's forge, reflecting his new found drive to serve once again under his banner.

He had followed him once in the streets to support his challenge to a previous Mandalore and walk with him again in his endeavors to rid the Mandalorians of the poison that filled their society. Even now, his people back home were beginning preparations to support Corden at their fullest potential.

There was still a tinge of worry within his heart, unknowing of Corden's acceptance of the ones he called family, brothers and sisters considering how far themselves had fallen into cut throats and mercenaries. Saren quickly pushed these thoughts aside, knowing he would have them following in his footsteps to war if it meant including a few of the unsavory.

He then quickly bowed before Corden, showing the utmost respect as he knelt upon one knee and crossed his chest with his right arm.

" ..Mar'e.. "

 

[Mars]

All were in attendance. This would be the group, this determined few, that would forge the Mandalorians into the warriors they should be. Many would die to see them turned into the machine of war they once were, through fire they would be purged.

A massive man stepped forward and approached Apollo before speaking. He explained that he was one of Corden's men and joked about the General's fanatic qualities. He cracked a smile and nodded before firmly shaking the man's hand.

"Suicide? Perhaps for our enemies my friend! The galaxy cannot be changed by taking no risk. Anyone can take the safe route, we will forge our people anew through risk."

Alya and Rao'az came through next, a pair of Mandalorians the A'lore had worked with personally. Both talented soldiers with massive potential.

"You two will be a large addition to our group. We will be incredibly successful. None will stop us."

Apollo was nothing if not determined. He would see his people renewed. Like a Phoenix, they would return stronger after the flames died down. His holo beeped before he answered, it was his Imperial contact. He let the man speak before responding.

"Excellent. We'll be leaving before the day is out and be on the Imperial border soon. I'll see you there and we can discuss further, looking forward to it soldier."

While Apollo spoke, another Mandalorian stepped forward, one who had been with Corden since he challenged Roxton Dagger the first time. Marcus A'den. A thickly built man who specialized in jetpack based warfare. He was not one to mince words.

"They will all fall."

His voice was deep and stern, he was angry at the state of things as much as any other. Words had spread among the ranks of a challenge to Onoveus soon and they would utilize the change in leadership as their planning time. Apollo spoke again.

"This is it everyone. Board your ships, ladies and gents, we've got a culture to fix."

His pale blue eyes skimmed over the crowd. He had a team of killers before him. The best of the best in the Mandalorians. Whoever it was that lead the sham of the Mandos would have no chance against them, especially with Empire funding. However, they would try, and for that some could be considered honorable.

Onward to victory, one step at a time.

 

[Vencu]

Corden gave a curt nod to the new arrivals that had gathered within his cavernous forge, the dim glow of burning embers playing against the odd collection of armor colors and patterns that were present. After a brief moment, he focused in on Saren, clapping a gloved hand on the man's armored shoulder as he spoke.

"Ori'vod, you kneel to no one. Rise, my friend, and take your place among us."

After several others had spoken, Apollo dismissed those assembled to their transports and Corden nodded assent. It was time to leave; to forge a new destiny for their people.

"All of you have clearance to land within the fleet. Kar'ta, our dreadnought carrier, will have more than adequate space to house your ships and cargo. Apollo and I will be aboard my flagship, Mandokar, which will be the last out of the system. You have four standard hours before the last group jumps to the rendezvous point. Miss your window and you travel alone."

 

[Nirvana]

He sighed as he looked up in the sky, soon he would join most of his clan aboard one of the ships that they would bring with them. The ship they were going to bring with them on this journey, this journey that would take them from mandalorian space yet again. But this time for another purpose, not like last time when they were fleeing. Cabur shut his eyes for a few second and cursed himself for not talking to Lucius, he should have come with him. But he knew better, he knew that he wouldn't follow him this time. That was why when he had left his armor in his care, he had simply told him that he went into self-exile. And that even if Lucius would see him somewhere in the galaxy, he should stay away from him. For his own good.
But he hadn't told him this in person, no not at all. He had left a holo-message in the crate where he had placed his armor and most of his gear, it should be enough for Lucius to understand. Cabur drew a deep breath before he exhaled and grabbed the controls to the ship, and fired up the ship generators before he listening to the sound. He let go of the controls for a few second and placed his hands over his head, Cabur shook his head a few second before gripping the controls to the ship again and took of from the planet.
A few minutes later he was flying alongside the dreadnought carrier Kar'ta, the ship that most of his clan would be on. Instead of landing directly even if he had gotten clearance he flew alongside the ship for a few minutes before landing, he stayed in the cockpit of his ship for several minutes. Just listening to the ship, before cutting the power and making the ship go silent. Leaving only one system online for now, the communications systems.
Cabur pressed a button on the control panel and opened up a channel to his clan leader, at first he hesitated a bit. He lifted his finger from the button and let the channel die, but only for a few seconds. It was all he needed to calm himself.”Cabur Ordo reporting in from the Kar'ta.” that was the only thing he said, he didn't need to say anything more.

 

[Matty]

Duraan silently polished his blue and white plastoid armor with a practiced passivity that had served him well in the past. He sat on one of the many supply crates that the Mandokar had stocked for the upcoming conflict. Duraan hummed the Dha Werda Verda and moved towards cleaning his DC-15A blaster rifle all the while waiting for the ship's captain to return. Duraan had been in the service of Clan Vencu for the past year and had loved every second. Corden had quickly became the adoptive brother he had always wanted. He gave him work, a home and more importantly, a purpose. Rav made every attempt to instill Mando culture into him, but it was Corden who truly had the final effect.

The discussion planetside stirred something within Duraan. Rav had preached that service to your Mand'alor was required of every Mandalorian, but Corden's philosophy was all to infectious. Duraan couldn't help but feel contempt for those who had willingly abandoned their homeworld. He had traveled millions of miles and hundreds upon hundreds of years to get where he was at today. Duraan longed, he needed a home on the surface of Mandalore and would do whatever it took to make that happen. After a few moments, Duraan hopped off of the crate and made his way towards the main hangar bay. Duraan settled himself alongside the balcony that overlooked the main landing bay. He continued to hum the ancient hymn and couldn't help but smile.

"I'll be home soon Rav" he whispered to himself

 

[Raif]

Jon Viggo entered the forge, late as usual. For once, though, he was not showing his normal signs of having sprinted to his destination in an attempt to arrive on time. Instead, the newly minted Lieutenant Jon Viggo, now of clan Ordo and aide-de-camp to Apollo Ordo, strolled casually through the passageway, his attention transfixed by the bulky, personally-customized datapad he held in his hand. He came to a halt, but continued tapping away with his stylus for a moment, busy adding sums and consulting ledgers. It wasn't until Apollo cleared his throat loudly that Jon's armor-clad head came snapping upward. He quickly came to attention, his right fist thumping against his left breastplate.

"Ori'Alor Ordo, General Vencu, everything has been prepared as you ordered. The forces have been assimilated and the combined fleet awaits your order to move out. I've forwarded a copy of the situation report to your personal datapads. How else can I be of assistance, sirs?"

As Jon spoke, the new HUD within his helmet took note of who else was within the chamber, and automatically recorded their clan names and designations within his datapad. For a nerd like Jon, who loved accumulating statistics and figures, the HUD was his new favorite toy, a gift from his new clan leader Apollo.

Ever since Apollo had made him aide-de-camp and rechristened him a member of Clan Ordo, Jon had felt a new sense of purpose within himself. He had been a mandalorian warrior for some time now, but this was what he was meant to do; he knew it.